02 October 2005

Fragella

Fragella goes outside often
to see if someone’s coming
th mailman walks backwards
to avoid news of th war
her dress is staind w/ memories
perfect kisses which never took place
th birds are all ded
and there is a build-up of nectar in the lane
Fragella sings as would th birds
to visions of punching-up her childhood
rosenthal shatters every Friday night
and that is th show
bad news
for never
there is no place on earth for her
all bonelands and immortal moors
and she is very
bent with joy
feels a fever
come on
swirls and is tasted it on her skin
every once in awhile
cold, cold
but only when it hits the air

th love knife, that is.

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